Ron Weasley and The Alternative Unforgivable Curse
by Ajuxliapose
Summary: Ron is falling in love- with Neville and while the boys think its love, Snape suspects foul play- an evil charm, read and review REVISED!
1. Ron's perspectives

Disclaimer: I don't own HP and never will do. This story is an original idea and the pairing is rare and justified in later chapters. I have tried to keep in character. The first five chapters is a monologue from Ron's perspective.  
  
I am on the train to go to Hogwarts. It's going to be my final year. I haven't seen Harry and Hermione recently 'cos I've been in Egypt with Bill, work experience. Dead boring. Mum made me write a thank you letter to the head wizard there, it was like 'Thank you for giving me a clearer idea of what I want to do with my life.' Yeah - certainly not that!  
  
The girls there were hot, but they lacked a certain something. Don't know what, maybe I prefer the British witches.  
  
I'm not going in THAT carriage, just saw Malfoy the twat go in there. I'm on my way to find the others. They are right. down. here.  
  
'Alright Harry!' We sit and chat for ages. Hermione is so tanned after being in France again. She looks stunning, but I can control myself- Strange, I used to fancy her so much.  
  
Everyone has had a brilliant holiday and is all varying shades of white, pink and lobster red, not to mention brown. I look at the group. Where is Neville? Who is this tall, tanned and muscular boy sitting next to Dean? HOLY SHIT! IT'S NEVILLE!  
  
Some things never change. He's just got up to get a snack and he has tripped over Hermione's cat. Neville Longbottom is now my height (six feet two inches) has glowing skin, and the fat has turned to muscle. He is lean and toned and... I'm so jealous! He has sparkly eyes and heck! That fat really hid a bone structure my mother would die for. I'm well impressed. I thought I'd changed since I'd taken up muggle sports (football, hockey, boxing, softball). I have muscles too - little ones but muscles!  
  
I have collapsed into a heap like some Stupefied animal. I am in shock and I can't believe what my eyes are telling me. My heart is still pounding from the surprise. Harry and Neville pick me up and sit me down. Harry looks good too, happier. He went to stay with Remus and Sirius over the holidays. He starts to tell stories of this bachelor existence.  
  
"Sirius and Remus live in this house in Gloucestershire, and its quite a new house and quite big for the two of them, so they went and got a few house elves- don't tut Hermione. They like, cleaning up and stuff and since neither Sirius nor Remus can cook... They have been eating take out pizza. It's all the bloody time they want a meal- they call up this place. They're on first name terms with the guy who runs it and for the first two or three times- Sirius was trying to pay them in Galleons. But the bloke who runs it is Turkish and understands why they try and do this. He thinks they are some kind of European origin because of the money thing, so he is always talking about how he misses his native Turkey, if he's delivering when they call, he often comes in for a chat. All magic has to cease. Remus has had to put memory charms on him several times when a house elf has come in and one of the dogs- Rosie has been on heat and is trying to hump a house elf or come in the room with MY wand stuck up her arse. The other dog Charlie is absolutely bonkers as well. You whistle or say walkies; he does a running lunge, knocks you over and licks your face until you get his lead. It's a simple existence and it is totally weird and all the neighbours think Sirius and Remus are a couple and stuff like that. One old bat was saying to me 'It must be awful to see your dad like that- living with another man- I expect your mother was mortified'. I really couldn't explain to her that Sirius was my guardian. It was nice though having the closest thing to a real family- except yours Ron, but lets face it- I'm still just a family friend."  
  
I try to reassure Harry that he's one of us, but he just smiles sadly. I wish I could have come now. I was invited but I went to Egypt.  
  
We catch up on the gossip. We are now in our final year and because we are seventeen, our thoughts wander from ways to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be- Named. Of our spare time, which isn't filled with peril (Harry's fault). We discuss who is doing whom and where-and why. We dissect it, why so-and-so is going out with them, when they are so out of their league. It's really funny, as these minging girls in the fifth year spread the same rumour about Harry this time each year. They say they all gave Harry a BJ in Snape's office. We always laugh, as these girls are just so sad! Make mental note this year to get Hermione to use her powers to shut the little girls up. New addition to the rumour this year is that I'm filming it! Yeah right! Now it's not ok to spread that rumour if I'm going to be in it. Also even I know with all my 'ignorance to my surroundings' as Hermione puts it, that a camcorder would never work in the school anyway- too much magic.  
  
A good rumour is that these two girls in our year in Hufflepuff are lesbians. We know them and they are hot. When Lavender tells us that, Dean asks if anyone here will stand up and prove they can cope with this revelation. Harry says "Nah you're alright mate," and gives me this panicking look to say 'I can't stand up- I need to preserve my dignity'.  
  
Seamus is no better and announces "I'm a man and proud of it!" and stands up to reveal a large bulge in his trousers. If Merlin can strike me down and bury me deep into the ground- can he please do it now? - I want to die. Ginny gasps and look shocked- but I can see she's checking him out. Hermione buries her face into her hands and wails 'why me!' I turn the other way, my face has gone very red, and my heart is pounding in horror at his blatant display.  
  
Unfortunately I'm not one of them lads who can get excited easily. My pecker has abandoned me -the bastard! I'm seventeen and impotent! Neville who has stayed silent during all that gives me a sympathetic look. I think his pecker has gone AWOL too.  
  
Lesbians. Always used to like it. Fred and George reckon that you learn how to really do a girl because a girl knows what a girl wants- I also wonder what they would have done at that scene just passed- they would have made such a joke of it. Its really corny, but they are my thoughts and no beggar can access them! While I'm on the subject of queers, I hate gays. The lot of them are batty boys. Ponces. There is this muggle man on muggle. Television! - That's the word! Bent as a cauldron, complete tosser. Harry was telling me about his show- that his cousin has to watch on the quiet because of his parents and they don't believe its 'Wholesome entertainment for our little Duddykins'.  
  
We've had a bit of a snack from the trolley, eaten chocolate and stuff. There is a bit of a lull. Ginny falls into a doze with her head resting on Hermione's lap, and Neville falls asleep because he said he'd not slept for two nights, worrying if everyone was going to have a go at him for changing.  
  
While he sleeps, we stay quiet. Dean looks at him for a bit and a smile plays on his face. He goes to his hand luggage and gets out a wash bag. A razor emerges, our eyes widen- this is wicked! We're gonna shave his head! We got to be careful in case the train jolts and he gets cut, but Dean looks like he is stroking his hair with the razor, occasionally dipping into a cup of water, and flicking the shorn hair into a bin that Harry has dragged in. I get a little pang of 'I want to do this!' it's a class trick; I wanna do it, take the credit.  
  
So once that relieved five minutes of boredom, we were at a loss for games to play. Silence fills our carriage. I feel so drowsy and.  
  
Harry nudges me. I must have fallen asleep. We're at Hogwarts now. Woo hoo! Food! Feast! I'm starving!  
  
I am eating between Hermione and Neville. I still can't believe his transformation. Malfoy has been over to our table and he won't shut up calling him a Nancy boy because of the tan line on his face from where Dean shaved his head on the train when he was asleep, saying it's fake tan.  
  
"You can talk- Snowy," I retort.  
  
"Yeah? You wanna shut me up?"  
  
"Gladly Malfoy. The only reason you are so white is because you never leave the house and you are like a bloody ghost- we can see right through you." The Gryffindors laugh while Malfoy mutters 'stupid tosser' and hurries back to his seat as Professor Dumbledore goes to make a speech.  
  
"That was a crap insult Ron- Dudley could have done better than that, we only laughed 'cos we wanted to get rid of the git." Stated Harry.  
  
Oh, right, fine. Well that made me laugh. Plebs- does no one here understand good humour?  
  
***  
  
We've all finished our meal now. We're too knackered to stay up and talk. We go off to the dorm. Harry has brought (snigger) moisturiser- what a pansy! What is it with men these days thinking its ok? It's such a girly thing. But Neville has fitted a set of weights in his trunk and starts this bizarre routine with one. I leave them to it and go to bed.  
  
I dream that Neville is teaching me to weight lift. He looks at me adoringly. I wake up with a pain in my groin. I've been sleeping on my front and obviously dreamed of one of those fit Egyptian birds. I have a right hard on. Glad to see you're back mate! Even though you got squashed. Tip: don't sleep on your front. 


	2. Tension builds

Again I don't own HP and I hope you enjoy this chapter. Later chapters will be edited.  
  
First morning back at Hogwarts. Even after that incident last night I feel surprisingly refreshed. I go down to breakfast. Everyone looks like death warmed up.  
  
The First lesson is Potions. The chirpiness in me plummets. Every other Gryffindor looks suicidal. I see Seamus dangling a knife above his wrists. I wish I'd thought of that first.  
  
Snape stands at the door as we silently filter into his lair. Malfoy looks smug, but so are his little cronies. If I didn't know any better, I'd say those three had been chain jerking.  
  
Snape has a glint in his eye. I'm very scared. He has become a right perv. He's 'dropped' his wand. And shit! He is looking up Pansy 'the pug-faced dog' Parkinson's robes! EW! EW! EW! SHE DOESN'T EVEN MIND! She is smiling at him! I want to puke! Neville looks at me strangely. He looks the same as yesterday still - the evil Slytherins have been implying that it's a spell.  
  
I ask Neville if it is a spell. He looks so hurt and I feel a complete and utter jerk. Neville asks me if it was a spell, why was he lifting weights? I apologise so much and promise a round at The Three Broomsticks. He warms to me a little again. I'd hate it if we broke friends. We've been a lot closer in recent years because he is in Potions with us and has no one else to sit with. Harry often pairs with Hermione to get the grades to go be an Auror, so we sit together.  
  
Potions is such a boring lesson. The Slytherin/Gryffindors have divided and the insults have dried. The two sides don't speak anymore. No one can be bothered. But we are all silently bitchy by evil looks, and hiding equipment. We're scraping the bottom of the barrel for retorts anyway.  
  
Hermione is quite clumsy today I notice. She seems upset by something. I make a resolution to draw it out of her. Though she is the head girl- we get to go out to Hogsmeade if the kiddies are asleep and there is no peril in the school. And since its been quiet for a little while- we're allowed to go out and get pissed out of our brains- as long as we attend lessons the next day and we can concentrate and stuff. Madam Pomfrey will not brew or serve hangover potions as we bring it on ourselves. Malfoy the prick found that out last year when he sneaked some stuff in. It was so funny watching him in our lessons leave every few minutes or so to puke and look so rough. Made our day it did. Though Hermione has found a recipe for the potion and makes a batch about once a week for the Gryffindors who haven't yet learned their lesson that 'cocktails 'til they fall over' is not a wise move.  
  
Yeah - like we're wild. The youngest bird at the pub is forty. I shouldn't be ageist. It's about how they look and what they could do. Oh I don't know. My eye can't be caught lately.  
  
***  
  
We're at the pub. It's just a quiet drink with me, Harry, Hermione, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Parvati and Lavender. We talk about the increase of gays in our year.  
  
"It is a stupid and immature way of crying out for attention from the opposite sex. Do girls not flock around their gay best friend who they think its ok to touch them and stuff because they aren't interested? Any story I hear around Hogwarts that some person or the other is gay. I just laugh it off. How can anyone have a normal relationship in this place anyway? Known anybody who has lasted more than three weeks?" Parvati ranted.  
  
"My parents did," I said  
  
"And mine," Harry said.  
  
"But that was heterosexual. My point is, such a controversial type of pairing isn't going to last. Wizards aren't meant to be gay. Does no one ever read? Its mainly the muggle born wizards who are off doing this 'cos they don't know its wrong." She carried on.  
  
"Yeah, well it could just be the way they are Parvati," Dean tried to interrupt. He soon wished he never had.  
  
"Do you think they actually DO anything? They are just saying they do. Its all-very well to hold hands in public- see Dean- we can hold hands now. Do we look like a couple to outsiders- yes we do- but that doesn't mean we are."  
  
"Ok, yes you have a point." Dean muttered and didn't speak to her for the rest of the night for making him look stupid.  
  
"Even though I'm muggle and I believe in rights for all types of action, I'm not sure if I want to jump on the gay rights wagon," Said Hermione taking a sip of butter beer. She was the only soft drink drinker; everyone else was drinking lager or alcopops.  
  
"Surely they do it for the attention, I quite agree with Parvati on some points, but according to scientists its natural. That people who are gay have a bigger part of the brain that drives them to do it. Animals do it- why not humans? Just as long as it isn't in front of me, I don't care." Hermione stated.  
  
"I'm undecided," said Neville. I look at him with interest. Does he not have an opinion on anything? "Well I had a religious upbringing and I was taught that it is a nasty habit like smoking that needs to be gotten out of- and only Merlin can save you from it. I don't know if I believe that. Hermione's science theory is very interesting, I just don't know who to side with these days as I find my own beliefs drag away from the churches, but I've never really thought in particular about the gay thing." But Neville blushed as he made the last sentence. He then dropped the beer mat he was feverishly fiddling with and ducked under the table to pick it up.  
  
"I'm just used to the muggle world. They used to put you in prison for it, but these days its perfectly fine- you still get the few old biddies who scream that it is demeaning the family and is wrong, but no one takes any notice." Said Harry.  
  
Lavender and Seamus opinions of "What they do on their own time is fine by us," make me a little mad. Do they not care about how unnatural and sick it is?  
  
Parvati then tells Neville he is fancied by both boys and girls. I then lose my rag. I'm shouting, 'Come on! How can you not think of it as sick?' I am met with blank stares.  
  
We soon go back to Hogwarts. Everyone is still slightly wary of me and I never found out what was bugging Hermione.  
  
***  
  
I stay up a bit to read. Harry, Dean and Seamus go straight to bed after a little too much of the falling down water. Neville is lifting weights. I don't know how to feel about that. It's odd to watch him. He wears these ball hugging shorts and no top. He sweats quite a lot too. He's also drying himself off a lot. A part of me feels stirred. Admiration? And the other part of me feels sick. I kind of like watching him. He notices, and smiles at me, then he packs up and goes to bed. I stay up a bit longer, and then turn my light out.  
  
***  
  
Turns out I saw him more than I expected. He was in my dream again last night, Neville that is. This time the Egyptian chicks stayed out of my dreams and I remained flaccid.  
  
The following days are dead boring and Hermione's mood gets better. Turns out she had 'An Encounter' with a French guy, and was 'Late On' whatever that means. She says she is terrified of 'The Consequences' and is considering looking at witch schools with crèches. But later that day, Hermione comes up to me and hugs me. She says she is 'On' (drugs?) She gives me a weird look for that and squeezes me until my guts come spilling out of my mouth and drip onto the wooden floor. Glad to see a happy ending to that. Everyone is happy at the moment, I'm content, but something is missing. 


	3. The 'bonding'

A couple of days later, Gryffindor took a Defence Against the Dark Arts trip to an Italian school. I couldn't afford it and guess who forgot to pay on time - Neville! At least I'm not on my own in Potions. We have to face Slytherins, but Neville rolls up his sleeves for the first time to reveal huge muscles and stands over Malfoy, shadowing him, who then proceeds to leave us alone.  
  
That night, we play several rounds of wizard chess, do all of our homework, and clean the dormitory. It was only nine o'clock when Neville goes to his trunk and gets out two bottles of vodka.  
  
He then goes to get comfort food from the kitchens while I try to push all of our beds together, sometimes trying to play the big man gives you a hernia, so I give up and use magic instead. We begin to drink shots. After three hard knocked back ones, my tongue gets loose. We decide to play truth or dare. We then realise that dares are only fun in a big group, so we play truth.  
  
I find out that Neville feels 'dead sexy' now he's lost weight and has muscles. He fancies several Muggle celebrities, and would most like to do Lavender, as he respects Hermione too much and is intimidated by Parvati.  
  
Neville finds out that I think I'm well fit and that the page five witch, in the witch tabloids is my ideal woman, and that I'd do Parvati.  
  
We raise the stakes.  
  
Neville takes a deep breath and asks me 'Honestly, have you ever liked a guy in that way?'  
  
I tell him about my views on gays, and then throw the question back at him.  
  
Neville lowers his shot glass and looks at me intensely, the light is quite dim and in one way he looks menacing, but another way, it was kind of 'come to bed'. If it was a woman, I would choose the latter and it sends a shiver down my spine. Neville is a good looking bloke.  
  
"I never thought about it until last summer, it never really seemed like an option to me. Believe me, Ron; I don't think I'm fully gay. I like girls a lot. I think I may be bisexual, but as time goes on, I like men more," he says to me, honestly, while never breaking eye contact.  
  
My mouth drops open. I tell him girls are beautiful, the way they talk and move and are so delicate. But I find myself confessing I want it rougher - why do I do that? I've really had too much now; the alcohol has gone straight to my head.  
  
I ask Neville if he has ever been with a guy. He says he has only ever kissed a bloke, and he has read up on what and how the gay thing is done.  
  
Silence follows and we drink until we pass out. I wake up later with sheets over me; Neville is looking into my eyes. It is now dark. It feels so (don't laugh) beautiful. Neville takes my hand. Half of me wants to let go and punch his lights out, the other half of me wants him closer still. I feel stupid and groggy, shaking my head doesn't help either.  
  
"My Gran told me that we always ridicule and mouth off and are afraid and disgusted of what we really want, if it could be undesirable," he said, randomly. That hits home with me and I look at Neville in a new light. I think I am starting to understand why for these past few weeks I wanted to look at him secretly, why he was in my dreams.. I have guessed his game. I can't believe it. It all makes sense now. I am shocked inside, but I feel like I don't really care, in fact, I feel kind of glad. I don't understand what I'm feeling; admiration for his bravery in admitting that he's a poof? I'm getting mushy feelings like I want to hug and protect him. I don't know why, those muscles hint he can take care of himself.  
  
"I want a man," he said.  
  
I REALLY don't understand why I'm feeling what I am. It can't be the drink, I can hold my drink, and I'm not even trying to put my head down on the bed trying to claim I'm not drunk (a usual occurrence, when my parents have company, I drink too much wine, and I put my head on the table- it feels very heavy after a few glasses). I think the drink is controlling me though. Disgust is not registering inside me for the scene that has happened so far, I'm not as think as I drunk I am. Something inside of me tells me to let go. I grudgingly obey.  
  
But, the emotions that swell up in my chest as I tell him that I want him too are indescribable. I then go on to feel energetic and horny. I tell Neville I want him to kiss me. He leans forward and touches my lips gently. My heartbeat quickens and I realise a guy has kissed me. I don't feel nauseated by it. I want more. Neville tells me I am drunk. I prove this by giggling. He then tells me I have to think. Why? Okay up until today I believed that being gay was wrong. What do I know? This feels so right. My sudden swing from one strong homophobic opinion to this is scary. I keep on telling myself it's the drink. I try and sober up, but I know I'm too far in.. I can't stop. For tonight at least, I am in love with this man.  
  
I think about going ahead with this (for all of two seconds) I want him. I lunge forward at him and start to kiss his neck. I can see Neville forgetting that I need to think. His eyes look mad as he says: 'Sod that' and we kiss. He takes me in his arms and gently pushes his tongue in, I begin to respond in that way too. French kissing with a guy is so much different, it is rough and passionate and there is no lip-gloss - bonus! Lip-gloss is very sticky. But to my surprise, I find I like kissing him very much.  
  
I am letting out weeks of pent-up sexuality, I think of Neville in those shorts when he works out and decide I want more than kissing. I gasp out for him to take advantage of me. Neville calls, 'Right back at ya.' I want to go first and explore his body. I ignore all nagging inhibitions and think of how drink doesn't lower your standards, just make you care less about the low ones you have. I don't think I have lowered my standards this time. I've swung completely the other direction, and I just don't seem to care, at the moment, I'm initiating and leading it anyway.  
  
My heart is threatening to thrust itself out of my chest as I slide down with my lips and fumble at his pyjama top. I hate buttons at this moment, the tension is getting too much, and I don't have time to be playing around with buttons. Neville helps me. I caress his upper body and feel every inch of skin and muscle, especially the muscle. I can smell his scent, his natural smell, and something of a cologne maybe, I don't recognise the aroma, what ever it is though, it's primal and I know this moment has to be like that.  
  
I am getting desperate. I want him more now and I kiss down his body to the pyjama bottoms. I now become unsure how to please him. So far I have been doing what I imagined would happen to me, what I imagined during a wank. Neville is reassuring me, saying the chest kissing feels good. But I want more than good. I want to make him scream! This desperation is new to me, I do not understand it, but I'm on autopilot, I am only aware of feelings, not action.  
  
I uncover his dick, shaking in anticipation. He is hard for me. I move up to his face and kiss him more, grateful that I have been so far doing it right that he is turned on by me. I then get to business. Irrelevantly, I'm thinking of lollies; I don't reckon you can go far wrong there. - Admittedly with very limited experience, like I've been thrown in the deep end, and told to swim.  
  
I am getting dizzy in a good way. This is so good! I know he is going to come soon. Neville has a pillow to his face it is muffling sounds he's making, I wish I could take the pillow off and hear the full acoustics the room has to offer, its reassurance anyway that I'm doing ok I suppose..  
  
He soon comes. I feel powerful, on fire. All doubts have gone away, this is very much the right thing to do. What AM I doing though? Acting the sex God. This is the alcohol's influence. I never before had the courage to take the lead like that.  
  
Neville moves onto me. I lie on my back trying not to make noises, there are other students in the tower, and we don't want to alert them. He licks me and teases my body, but doesn't start until he knows I can't stand anymore, why is he doing this? I am going mad. Why doesn't he just touch me?  
  
It turns out to be sensational and gratifying, waiting for him to touch me and stroke me and put me in his mouth and suck me until I come. The only words I have to say are: WOW. Apart from that, I am speechless. Never again will I mock those who are joined at the hip with someone if they can feel like this!  
  
We lie flat on the bed. Neville turns to me and says: "Never done that before with you, mate." 


	4. The morning after and Ron's deliberation

I wake up with a horrible jolt. The beds are still together. I am alone. The sheets are hard and stained. My mouth feels dry and like some animal crawled in there to die. I know why it is, and it's not just the alcohol. I don't mind that. I am detached from myself; it's not me who's clinging onto the bed as if it will buck me off. I am outside of my head watching some guy who looks like me suffer.  
  
I get up and wash and scrub myself until I am pink. I don't feel ashamed or dirty just. less smelly. I feel completely neutral, but with last night buzzing lazily, stumbling around my head.  
  
At the breakfast table, Neville is nowhere to be seen. Probably out for a jog. I end up eating with Ginny and her mates. Is it me or are they laughing more than usual? Did they hear us? On the other side of the tower, I don't think so. I've got to stop this paranoia before it begins otherwise how will I live with myself. I'm still a little drunk, and I feel too stupid to think, not even to berate or hate myself for last night.  
  
I quickly make my excuses after my porridge and leave. I am still hungry, I think about turning back for a piece of toast when I see Neville hanging out by the door. He sees me, politely smiles and walks away.  
  
***  
  
As the day goes on, I feel cheap and the need to make things right with Neville gets on top of me. I don't know if I want to make last night a regular thing. Already I am a hypocrite. I hate gays. Hate their loud suits on muggle television, their limp wrists and 'Sweetie DARLING!' attitude. If I were gay, that would be me, wouldn't it? Would I have to wear fake tan even though I have red hair, and all I do is burn, and just look like a skinny gay tomato poncing about Hogwarts? 'Hermione - sweetheart! Just say no to that hair!' and imagine me bounding up to Dean or Seamus - 'Who's your Daddy?' NO NO NO NO NO! IT'S NOT ME!  
  
Maybe I am this one - night - stand junkie who would take man, woman, animal or object. Would I be humping a broomstick by lunchtime if I were given half a chance? I don't know! These strange thoughts are running through my head. Fantasies and metaphors are visiting. They are here to torture me. I know it.  
  
Our lessons haven't been cancelled so I'll see Neville in Herbology.  
  
***  
  
He turns up all right. We partner as not to raise suspicion. (At Hogwarts we are very loyal to our house and will never partner with another unless we HAVE to) I want to talk but Neville says, 'Not now.' After the lesson, we go to the dormitory and sit on our now pushed apart beds, which the house elfs must have had a hell off a time doing.  
  
Neville asks me what I wanted to talk about - isn't it obvious?  
  
He also tells me he knew my attitude to gays and thought I was drunk after all that vodka and that we should put it behind us. He isn't quite looking me in the eye. It looks like to him that 'putting it behind him' would be the last thing that he would want to do. Typical - he wants to do 'the right thing'. How do we know what the right thing is though?  
  
I feel panicky, like I want to hold onto him, keep him talking for longer as if to persuade him otherwise. I pull myself away from my thoughts and I ask him if he really wants to. Neville replies that he likes my technique, and me, and then cheekily says he'd like to do it to me sober. That made me smile; its good to see a hint of humour in such a dire situation, because it is dire isn't it? This is madness, and these unorthodox circumstances - It could only really happen to me.  
  
I hear myself telling Neville I want to see him again and relay my fear of being gay. Then the thought crosses my mind - what the hell do I tell my mother? She is really looking forward to me meeting a nice girl (Hermione - she always hints at Hermione) marrying her and making more Weasleys. I won't be able to pass Neville off as Hermione. Maybe it won't go that far, maybe Neville will decide he wants someone else before I get round to telling everyone. That idea makes me extremely irrational. I have to sit on my anger while Neville talks.  
  
'Are you scared of ridicule?' Neville says to me and tries to put me off. I knew it! He doesn't want me! 'We can't have a normal relationship like last night. Its too public, if the other students know as only a rumour, its bad enough, but the teachers? I don't know their take on homosexuals.'  
  
I am mad, but this neediness overtakes that. 'Why can't we see how it goes?' I beg Neville. I suddenly think that I don't want to be without him. It is so weird. Days before I publicly verbally assassinated anyone who even thought of being gay. Now I want to be one. It doesn't make sense. It really doesn't make sense. I remember that stupid baby cupid that features on Valentine's Day cards, he isn't just blind; it's a lousy aim as well! What the heck am I doing thinking of some ancient mythical, fat, blonde, curly haired baby? I am in the middle of an adult conversation that is beginning to affect life as I know it! Am I about to enter the gay community I've always hated? Will they welcome me with open arms? I didn't know and didn't care; I was about to prove to him why he should stay with me, and me only.  
  
I move over to Neville who is standing by the door, I push him against it and start to kiss him. I am really getting into the taste of him. I have virtually no experience, but it's coming naturally. Neville breaks away.  
  
"What have we got next and how long?" pants Neville.  
  
"Potions. One hour. Shut up," I reply.  
  
Neville turns around and locks the door and I run to my bed and bounce up and down. I must look like the Muggle cartoon, Tigger, on speed, on a magic trampoline. Neville joins me and pulls the curtains around the bed.  
  
"Nervous now you're sober?" he says. He's trying to be gentle, considerate, but he's treating me like glass - my morals anyway, there is no gentle way about his touches, I like that. Women just have fairy fingers.  
  
I check myself. I am shaking like I'm cold. There are butterflies in my stomach, I can't tell if it is bad or not. I don't want Neville to think I am scared so I tell him I can't wait and will he just take my robes off? I am scared though. Never done this sober at all. What if he laughs at me?  
  
He then goes on to mention that we could get caught, student, teacher, and house elves. The thought of that makes me excited. Neville sees the bulge in my trousers and smiles: 'I didn't even have to touch you.' He gets me naked and we do the stuff that we did last night with all the stroking and the licking. But we can't go too far as when we get to the proper deed, we may not come. I want my turn to be over so I can go ahead and do him. Neville then asks if I have lubricant. I couldn't believe how blasé he was being about it, like he was asking to borrow a quill.  
  
Um, hello I was 'straight' until yesterday, what is lubricant anyway? I didn't want my inexperience to show, so I kept shut, and just gave him a look. Neville smiles and apologises and explains to me the concept of lubricant. He then sticks his head out of the curtain and looks around the room. Harry had forgotten his moisturiser. I told Neville straight there was no WAY in hell we'd use that. We'll have to go to Hogsmeade, Fred and George is selling a few sex things for a little extra profit in the back corner of the shop. I remember George telling me about how well these things sell, as no other joke shop nearby does.  
  
Neville tells me it doesn't matter and begins to kiss me and fondles my bum. I love kissing him; I could do this all day if it didn't give me an aching jaw and a numb tongue. I'm not sure if I'm ok with him doing that with my bum, but try to relax. It is all so new and alien to me. I don't know the right thing to do, or the right thing to say. My experience with women was vastly limited, and men and women are different creatures so they'll like different things. It's not a case of do to him what would please me. We are all different. Damn the diversity of the human being!  
  
*** 


	5. Snape suspects and Ron has to debate wit...

Chapter 5- Snape suspects.  
  
Neville and I had lost track of time and we lay in bed. Just dozing when the bell rang.  
  
"Shit!" I yelled. I sprang up and tried to get dressed. I nearly castrated myself on my underpants. Neville fell over trying to get two legs into one leg of his boxers. It always takes longer to get dressed when you're in a hurry- WHY? Snape knew we were here and if we were late or bunked. it didn't bear thinking about.  
  
We ran into the lesson, breathless and all over the place. An evil smile curled up on his lips. He signalled to us to sit down calmly, which we did eyeing him up warily, wondering if he could read the last hour's events on our faces. Neville was glowing and looked happy even in Snape's lair, if I looked like this too, wouldn't he put two and two together? - He wouldn't be here if he wasn't smart.  
  
***  
  
Later in the lesson, Neville and I were doing a practical experiment. I wasn't listening to Snape- but the potion was to ensure short-term memory loss. We were to test it on each other at the end of the lesson. I hadn't had a sip of the potion, but I couldn't remember why I was in this lesson when I could still be lying in bed with Neville.  
  
He was standing right next to me, our arms were touching. We didn't speak- we didn't need to and if we had, Snape and the class would have discovered our trysts.  
  
The dungeon we were in was dark and smelly. Something that looked watery was dripping off stones in a kind of rhythm. I stared at it for a while when we had packed up- it was mesmerising.  
  
Snape was now going round the class slowly, testing the Slytherin's potions and gravely saying 'well done' when they said they didn't know who they were. It was a blatant lie as they often had a wave of panic before they answered in their faces. Neville nudged me to get my attention. I remember how fearful of Snape he used to be. Now he just heavily disliked him and wouldn't trust him as far as he would push him with his piss. He had composed himself very well.  
  
Just before he came to us, he sampled Malfoy's potion, which he expected to be amazing. Snape passed the levelled spoon over to the blonde, smug looking git who tasted it like it was something disgusting- like it was spinach (ugh!). Snape asked Malfoy 'Who are you?' The little runt turned to him, a wave of panic spread over his face. THE POTION HADN'T WORKED!!! He put on some lost child eyes and said in a meek tone 'I don't know' Snape smiled. It was a gruesome sight. I watched the dark eyes light up a kind of greenish browny tinge. The withered and dry lips stretched and cracked, the appearance of cheekbones. one word: Yuk! I looked at Neville, he shivered visibly. I reached underneath the desk and I touched his hand briefly to comfort him. I didn't realise that Snape had seen me do this. He paced over meaningfully and looked maliciously at our potion. 'Save the best 'til last' he purred sarcastically. He peered into our cauldron and his eyes widened in surprised. He was amazed, for once we had been successful, our potion was exactly the same colour as it had instructed in the textbook.  
  
Immediately his eyes narrowed. He had to save face in front of the Slytherins. He felt for something in his robes and loudly said that our potion was too strong and he must put something in there to weaken it or we would never fully recover. He was obviously talking bollocks, but I kept my mouth shut, as I had learned in previous years at Hogwarts, Snape was an unlikely force to be reckoned with and was as stubborn and determined to succeed as we were.  
  
He took a little bottle out of his robes. It was delicate, and made of frosted glass; it had a clear liquid swishing suspiciously in it. He poured a tiny drop into the potion and it sizzled for a second before calming down and slowly extracting the pigment from the potion. The mixture was now light blue.  
  
Neville and I stared at the potion apprehensively and glanced warily at Snape. 'Are either of you going to taste it?' He snapped. I looked at him with contempt and forcefully held Neville's gaze to say I was going to taste the potion. I snatched the spoon from the desk and I dipped it into the cauldron quickly as if to show this evil man I meant business. Neville was a nervous wreck next to me, he hated this subject and whatever Snape had put in there, well as far as he was concerned he either meant to kill me, the belligerent redhead, friends with the celebrity Harry Potter, or I would get allergic reaction and die before Madame Pomfrey could save me, after all wizards can do, we can raise the dead.  
  
I brought the spoon carefully out of the cauldron and quickly shoved it viciously into my mouth before I could voice any qualms and chicken out. I felt my hand shake, but it was rock steady when I opened my eyes. I swallowed. The taste was cool and like salad, it slipped down my throat easily. I felt at peace, my mind was blank and I felt woozy and floaty.  
  
Snape stared at me intently until he was sure that I was spaced out enough not to be conscious of what I was answering. He had been sitting on an empty stool that Hermione would have usually taken up and slowly rose, his bones creaked as he stood to his full height-, which was just under my 6ft 2ins. He slinked noiselessly to the back of me and bent down at a leisurely speed that would have suited an old man, but more flowingly. He whispered in my ear a stage whisper. It was loud and I felt warm breath on my ear menacingly. 'What did YOU do before this lesson Ron Weasly?'  
  
Neville looked at me with panic in his eyes. He was concerned that I wouldn't remember to not remember as he told me later. Another one of his conjectures was that Snape had bewitched the potion with a truth serum. At the time I just thought that he was going to be hurt if I had said the answers 'I don't know' or 'nothing' or even worse for the Slytherins to hear 'fucking Neville!' it would have killed him. I ignored Neville and turned to the man who asked me the question. I didn't know anything. I vainly searched for a memory, but one wouldn't come. It was a struggle to find the words to speak. He looked satisfied and was now kicking back on the stool and smirking with his arms folded defiantly. I finally found the words to answer him, but I held back. I had a strange feeling that I really wanted to tell the truth, but I couldn't remember what it was. I opened my mouth to answer, it took a long time, and I was stammering heavily. 'I don't know, I don't remember what I did.'  
  
I looked at Snape who was obviously disappointed he hadn't had a juicy answer. His face fell and his expression twisted and looked at me like I was scum (no change there) and hurriedly jumped off his chair and sat back at his comfy chair at the other end of the classroom. I turned to Neville, he smiled at me wanly, he was pleased that I hadn't divulged our secret, but crushed that for the moment I couldn't remember out time together. Later on I thought about whether I would have felt the same if Neville couldn't remember what we had done, I came to the conclusion that I would have been absolutely devastated.  
  
***  
After the lesson, Neville went for a run, I didn't want to go on the other side of the grounds by the forest, so I hung out by the lake and watched all the life under there and I started to think about who I really was.  
  
How do I feel now I am being gay?  
  
I am still really confused. Who am I?  
  
The other day, I was bad mouthing homosexuals. Now I am one aren't I?  
  
Just because I have a couple of experiences, I am suddenly pigeonholed. I don't want to be labelled as one thing. Can't I just be Ron, not 'the gay guy who is dating the body builder and the best friend of that Harry Potter'?  
  
If I decide this isn't for me, can I leave being gay, like leave a job?  
  
What do I tell people if I decide that this is the sexual orientation for me? How do I tell them? I feel so guilty, I know I have four brothers and one sister who are so straight and they can carry on the Weasly line, but my parents are still going to be disappointed. I don't really know many gay wizards. I think I blame the muggles for this. But then again, if gayness wasn't about, would we be unhappy, because we feel something is wrong, we don't know what and we can't express it. I really don't know about this.  
  
I like doing the gay intimacy thing, but I haven't been with a girl, so shouldn't I know what that is like before I say I am one thing?  
  
If I stop being gay, will girls date me? Or will I have to go on the other side of the world to find someone, who may end up knowing and wondering if I am going to slip.  
  
It's so confusing. I mean if I decide that I am gay, and I want to be with Neville, how do we conduct a relationship here when the Gryffindor of this year are here. There would be no privacy, I mean me and Neville are going to want to do it, and I would feel selfish kicking everyone out, and secrets don't stay secret for long.  
  
Will our friends reject us? Harry is going to be disgusted, he says he doesn't care if someone is gay, but we have shared a room do many times that maybe he will feel cheated and that I am after him. I'm not, I think I like the big muscly type like Neville, all masculine, not like your typical feminine queers with their loud shirts etc etc.  
  
What the fuck is Hermione going to say? She thinks that gays are attention seekers. I am not an attention seeker. I just want to get on with my life, and I don't want the school to know my business. How will she cope? I don't want her to shun me. Will the rest of the boys in Gryffindor think I am after them?  
  
But it won't just be me coming out will it? Neville will be stepping out of the closet. Will we stand the test of time and stay together. The strain of the teasing and not being able to be physically close has got to take its toll. We won't last a week, and we may and up not being friends anymore. I'd hate that, it seems that we aren't that close, but Neville has been a good friend to me over the years.  
  
I couldn't hack the bullying of the Slytherins. I'm certain that Snape was onto me this lesson. Maybe he saw us all happy and the way we were looking at each other. Maybe he saw me touch his hand. How would we cope with Malfoy. His dad would be petitioning to get Neville and I the hell out of this school and out of all others on this planet. That man is rich and as I once heard some northern old bloke say 'those rich folk- they can do owt they want'. He was very true. We would be a disgrace. He would go on for months, possibly until we left this school and after. I have no idea how wizards respond to the gay community.  
  
Would Dumbledore expel us? I mean it's a pretty nasty business isn't it and Rita Skeeter would make a hell of a meal out of it, saying the schools standards have dropped.  
  
But I think I think too much. Who says this isn't going to fizzle out and we will be the same as before. We're teenagers for goodness sake! No teenage relationship actually lasts long does it? Maybe apart from my parents but that was a hetro relationship.  
  
Why do I care so much about what people think of me? I am living my life, and I feel really bad for judging everybody now based on reputation, looks, grades, family life. Who cares as long as they are a nice person? I am a nice person aren't I? I try my best.  
  
I have now come to the conclusion that I need more deliberation. I need to talk to Neville and we need to see if we will confide in the people we love most and see their reaction, get them used to it and prepare for it to leak out. Someone is bound to give, and tell others.  
  
I am not getting very far am I? These thoughts are just revolving round my head and I can't control them, they are spinning round like a merry go round with the painted horses as an idea each and you are trying to see the decoration, but it is spinning around way too fast and you end up dazed and confused and feeling sick.  
  
I stayed still as my stomach tried to revolt. I didn't know what to think anymore let alone what to do. Everything I thought about me in my romantic life, which for a teenager is insignificant, but big to us, had totally changed and I couldn't tell you even what day it was.  
  
This was not going to be easy. 


	6. Snape REVEALED!

Chapter 6- Snape revealed!!!!

  Author's note: I have moved from Ron's monologue to Snape in the third person. I tried to do Snape in the first person but it really didn't work. I am typing this with a cracked elbow so credit to me!!! It getting deep. There isn't much narrator intervention so the thoughts are all Professor Severus Snape's not mine!

Now here we go!

                                                            ***

   Professor Snape was cursing himself in the potions room. It was dank and smelled after having nearly one hundred students pass through its doors, sit down, breathe and move around, not to mention sweating during the experiments out of the hot room and fear of the potions master. At least one hundred students had sweated in there and it really stank! Serverus inhaled, nearly choked after smelling his teaching room through a new nose. He realised he didn't have to be cursing himself in his dungeon, this hell hole- he could be cursing himself in his office. 

   So off to his office he went. A fire was burning in welcome for him in the grate, blazing warmly with an orange hue. Thoughts were running madly, in anarchy around his head playing 'catch a guilty thought one at a time if you can'. So far he had failed and they all taunted him naively, running away when he tried to catch one.  

   What had he done? He had deliberately belittled two students who were alone in alone in the class, and had no other Gryffindors for support; they had actually got their potion right- for once. That was bad enough; he had doctored their potion with the truth serum- just to get an answer for his twisted curiosity. Even worse than his professionalism leaving the building- adding the truth serum hadn't worked. In his haste and badly hatched plan to humiliate the boys the forgetfulness potion had worked before the truth serum, so instead of Ron divulging his deepest secrets, Ron had forgotten everything that he wouldn't want to tell. Severus Snape had failed in knowing his potions, which was almost as bad as the ethical implications of trying to screw over Ron Weasly.

   Severus Snape sat unceremoniously on his chair behind his desk. It was hideously neat on the surface, but in the drawers below was chaotic and cluttered. He poured himself a cup of tea. His mind wandered away from Ron and Neville's filthy little deeds and he debated why it was such a big deal. He opened the front gate to his frustration. He may as well submit to the rambling on of his thoughts, they may shed some light. He carried on walking down the meandering path to his home of reflection, passed the lilac bush (while making the mental note to trim it as it was blocking the way to the house and sapping away its light from the neighbours) Snape unlocked the door and made his way to the living room (taking his shoes off as to avoid soiling the new carpet). He grabbed a can of beer from the fridge and sank into a brown leather armchair and switched on the television. He tried to remember the last time he had held someone- anyone even his neighbour's pet dog! When was the last time that he had held a naked female- that was even more brain racking!

   Snape at his desk sipping tea smiled mildly in memory. He remembered his last visit to Cornwall. He had an apartment there on a block that housed young, professional twenty and thirty some things. Most were single, busy, horny and sexually amoral. Intimacy was for the boring, shagging around was the new married. 

   In Cornwall, he behaved like a muggle, he would go down there in the holidays when the little darlings went back to mummy and daddy wizard and gave them hell for two months instead of him. Severus considered living like a muggle for two months of the year the wizard equivalent of camping, and liked 'slumming it' especially when good looking female muggles would throw themselves at him for his mean and moody aura. He didn't know why he did this, but while he was there, the wand went away and potions were temporarily forgotten, Severus Snape dressed like a muggle, talked like a muggle and even drove a rented muggle car. He even used a muggle name. His muggle moniker was Simon Smith and he stuck to that like glue. In his flat, there was no electrical equipment; he could not escape his magic even then, so to prevent mysterious happenings, there was no television and such consumer durables.

   He never knew why he did that. He was a wizard, a talented and powerful one and he was not ashamed of who he was. He preferred the slumming it excuse, but he also found it easier to get laid as a muggle. Even wizards like to be close to someone sometimes, and the other teachers including Dumbledore who was cheating on his wife with work went home to their families at the holidays. Severus often compared his mother to a bulldog or one of those gargoyles in France and his father- well he left when Severus was 15. He understood really why his dad left, but was miffed that he hadn't taken him with him. He found it hard to maintain a wizard relationship because of his activities as a death eater (although a spy for the good side) and although he was on their side, rumours of otherwise would dog any budding relationships. He hated his mother, hadn't seen his father for eighteen years and had no brothers or sisters. His friends were part of the dark side now, either rotting with the dementors or plotting with Voldemort, having forgotten he had ever existed. 

   He hadn't gone to Cornwall last summer holiday, Dumbledore had needed him spying as Voldemort had another plan up his sleeve to destroy Harry. (Severus had never really seen the point in trying to destroy the boy at this age or even at all.) Why? Revenge? Kill the biggest aponement? He didn't know why and it often drove him mad, no wonder Voldemort wasn't gaining control as quickly as he wanted- but he wasn't going to let on that little detail to Voldemort, in a way it was kind of fun watching his by trial and disastrous error, the boy had one up on him: talent and youth, strength and courage that didn't mean point your wand at the enemy and say 'adeva kedavra' that was the coward's way out. 

                                                                        ***

   Severus had gone to Cornwall the year before last. A whole fucking eighteen months since his last shag. He had always wondered if sexual desire was a wizard trait, it seemed ok for muggles… he finally remembered his last human encounter. Her name was Sally. She was in her twenties and a trainee accountant. They had met in the post room downstairs. He liked her Arian features- pure blood in his opinion and she liked his attitude- dark (misguided fool- she was really upset when she found out that as a lover Severus wasn't up for spanking). He had treated her well and they lasted longer than that first night. He had taken her out several times after, and then he had to go back to Hogwarts. He knew that she hadn't been exclusive with him but he didn't care, she's be shacked up with some office worker and they would buy a nice little house in Stowe to raise a family by the time he returned to his holiday home. The worst thing was that she wasn't even that good. 

   Snape was bitter that Ron and Neville would have that closeness on top of intimacy between friends and family and teachers to look after him. Who would look after Severus? – No one! Dumbledore and Mcgonagle would inquire if he was healthy and eating properly, but neither would give him a hug when he had five lots of Gryffindor classes in one day and they all decide to play up.

Not to mention the time that they would spend together. But he didn't fancy having to resort to what Ron and Neville were to receive it. He didn't understand, boy/girl relationships weren't exactly banned at Hogwarts.

   But Ron liked girls didn't he? He wasn't exactly the common homosexual type Severus thought. Ron was brash and wild, very masculine in his appearance, stance and manner. In previous years he had always been trying to chat up the girls. People don't wake up and exclaim: 'I'm gay!'

   In Snape's head, something rang false. This was not right. His self-condemnation for trying to screw the boys over disappeared, his arousing memories of Sally popped away slowly like bubbles, but he made the mental note to pick it up later. Severus began to feel his sense of altruism galloping from his stomach and set up camp in his head, just in the upper right corner of his forehead, get out its spears and goad him unrelentlessly.

   He needed to think- no questions asked. A feeling of dread started to squat on the camp of where the altruism was staying. The window of his office appeared to scream out: 'come see through me Severus!' He obeyed. He rose arthritically from his chair and glided over to the glass. He saw Ron Weasly sitting on a bench by the lake. His back was to him, but Severus could tell without seeing his face that the young man was sad and deep in thought. Ron's hunched shoulders and drooped head said it all. Snape felt a wave of pity.

   Ron can't possibly understand what is happening to him. Does he even know who he is anymore? I doubt it very much Severus thought. In general wizards don't fall in love with their own sex. Snape fully believed that homosexuality killed off wizards. 

   He watched carefully as Neville jogged up to Ron from behind him and touched his shoulder with gentleness that isn't becoming of a man. Ron turned slowly as though being woken up from a reverie saw Neville and smiled wanly at him. He stood up like an old man, followed Neville dejectedly into the school. Soul searching is hard enough, must be worse at seventeen Snape mused.

                                                                        ***

   After supper, Snape sat at his desk again. He had marking to do but didn't feel like it. Ron's confusion was playing on his mind. He didn't even know why he cared. Severus could only think of muggle influences to be the cause of Ron and Neville's extra-curricular activities. 'Situation comedies' he blamed. 'You can't move for lesbians or a gay man debating like world peace depended on what hideous shirt to wear to impress the pizza delivery boy.' But both boys were from wizarding families- no television- no Will and Grace. Snape was really racking his brains now. 

   A scene of a previous meeting with Lucius Malfoy played blaringly, but fuzzy in his mind. It was starting to come clear, it was fragmented and heavy. Lucius had told him that Voldemort was concocting a charm to inflict homosexuality on Wizards (preferably the mud bloods- to get rid of them). Severus never usually believed a word that dreadful and ostentatious man said- but could it be true? It would be too obvious if Harry was targeted (being gay would consume his thoughts and being around boys, chasing them would take time- time he should be spending trying to defeat Voldemort, but if Harry is going off being gay then he can take over -right? - but everyone will be there keeping the boy on the straight and narrow So why not go one rung lower and target the boy's best friend.) Snape never really understood the logic of Voldemort's train of thought. It was too sick. Why Ron, Harry can function without his sidekick, but maybe performance could be tired, as he would be worrying about Ron all the time. Also he maybe influenced and you can catch nasty diseases from penis to arse activity. Not to mention men can't impregnate each other and without a woman you can't make baby wizards and carry on the bloodline. It was a slow Aveda Kedavra with some Cruciatus thrown in if you got a disease. – Yes it was evil enough and a crazy enough plan to be Voldemort's conjecture.

   Severus was REALLY worried now. HAD a charm been put on the two boys. He couldn't ask anyone for help. Dumbledore may dismiss him saying: 'they are not your concern' ranting possibly that it is a grudge fuelling such rumours. But Dumbledore may believe him; after all he _was_ a respected and long serving master at Hogwarts. But he would need proof that the two young men were at it first to prove his case to Dumbledore. It was a sick and disgusting job that would need cunning planning- but someone was going to have to do it to save them.

                                                                        ***

   His newly acquired invisibility cloak was hanging proudly on the peg on the back of his bedroom door. Severus had stumbled up to his chamber. He needed to sleep. Little professor Flitwick had knocked on his door not long after lights out to invite him to join the rest of the teachers with a few bottles of wine. He had accepted grudgingly, but graciously, thankful for the distraction but not wanting to have company. Severus had drowned his suspicions of foul play for the two Gryffindor lads. Now he was alone, he had thrown them a lifebelt and his ideas were bobbing gratefully on the surface. But he couldn't possibly go to sleep now. He had to know if Neville and Ron were at it, so he could step in as soon as possible to reverse the charm- if he could. Severus was now convinced that Voldemort had tested his new idea on the two boys. He had to stop it. Lives would be ruined if it ever got out.

   The invisibility cloak was now glittering like a show person's costume in the dark and gave the tipsy professor an idea. If he put it on and went into the boy's dormitory, he would either find them doing the deed or evidence that they were. He would take his ominculars for visual proof to Dumbledore or as blackmail. (Snape had hoped if it wasn't a charm blackmail that he knew what they were up to and telling the whole school would shame them out of it). 

   Getting to their room would not be easy. He couldn't possibly walk through Gryffindor tower even with an invisibility cloak on. For starters getting past the fat lady, as he didn't know the password was a problem. Then he didn't want to cause a stir. Surely some brave little Gryffindor would be out of bed and seeing a door open by itself or footsteps. (Yes he wasn't a Slytheryn for nothing and yes, most of the time he appeared to slide effortlessly over the floor, but even the least bloated of people admit to passing wind sometimes).

   His broomstick was casually leaning in the corner of the room by the door. It was a moderate room that was in keeping with the rest of the school with its old design and rich furnishings. Severus didn't like the layout, it was too dark, but he wasn't allowed to change it, as it wasn't his actual home. That was one of the things he liked about his Cornwall apartment, he could decorate whenever he liked. Which was most years. He liked to explore different and bold colours. He hadn't ridden his broomstick for ages. It could have done with the once over, but Snape was too drunk to care. He had the idea of flying out the window into the Gryffindor tower and obtaining his facts that way. But he knew he _must not_ be seen hovering outside the Gryffindor tower. What business would he have there? Surely he would be up to no good?

  This is where the cloak comes in. It's first proper job. He had saved for three years to buy this luxury. Teaching at Hogwarts had paid well because he had no responsibilities to drain his cash like the wife and children that he did one day desire. But a lot of his money had been paid into his Gringott's pension plan that would look after him if no one else was there to or could or even would. His spare funds would be spent on ingredients for new potions and new clothes after concocting the new potions would often result with the sleeves of his robes on fire, spreading to his body. Finally, he was there. He owned a desirable wizard item, symbolising not only wealth and status- the exciting business to go undercover and _need _the item. It also came in handy when spying on Voldemort for Dumbledore. Neither He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named nor any other death eater had the device that 'mad eye moody' used to detect the cloaks. The other death eaters were so loyal; they never thought to wear it during the meeting. Only probably that Lucius Malfoy had one. He would never use it, just buy it and keep it for the sake of having it and the boast of owning such an opulent thing.

   Being drunk sent Severus's thoughts right into the wrong direction, even worse than sober. His thoughts were sent hurtling into the wrong direction, he would also realise he was two hundred kilometres away and not just in the wrong direction- in the wrong lane too because all of a sudden his brain would crash into something immovable and he was blank for a few minutes.

   Severus woke up later. He didn't know how long he had been on the floor. He had never really passed out due to drink before. But this was wine and it messed with your head. He vowed passionately never to drink wine again in such a quantity. Slowly, Severus rose and morosely surveyed the spot where he had fallen. The rug was a shag pile type thing was darker than normal and damp to touch. At first Severus thought he may have hit his head on the nearby coffee table and might be bleeding from there. He touched his throbbing head cautiously. There was no blood. But as he started to walk away, his pants and robes were wet. To his utter disgrace, disgust and humiliation he realised he had wet his pants. 

   Stumbling to his wardrobe, Snape fumblingly opened the door and rifled through his few possessions. There was tomorrow's outfit and that was all. He couldn't wear that as it would be unwearable tomorrow and the house elfs would not return his other clothing until the next afternoon. As it was a warm night and he was wearing his cloak, which was heavy and soft on the skin, Severus decided to go naked under his cloak once he was dry. Nobody would see him. On reflection, Snape would have worn his pyjamas- had he thought about it then? No, that would have been _too_ sensible…

   He slipped the cloak over his pale body, making sure nothing stuck out. He couldn't believe how big the cloak was compared to him. Severus Snape was a tall and slim man who had big knots in his limbs instead of joints. Although he was skinny, he was strong and supple. (He would **NEVER** admit that he swum in the huge teacher's bath and that he secretly did yoga). This meant that he had no problem squeezing out of his bedroom window and onto his broomstick. He wobbled as he sat down on it, as he was unsteady from the vino. The little bugger of a broomstick must have smelled his intoxication and fear. Severus had not been on his broomstick for months and it often took ages for the thing to trust him again. He tightened his grip on the broomstick and jerkily directed it to the Gryffindor tower. He went at a higher speed than he should have done for the built up area around him of jutting towers and turrets, but he didn't realise and didn't care. He slowed down and cruised about the Gryffindor area looking for the seventh year tower, the dormitory that Ron and Neville shared. 

   All of a sudden, he remembered his ominculars for evidence of homosexual activity and he made his way back to retrieve them. After a mad scramble, he found them and sped back to the place of action.

  The boy's window was smaller than the one at his tower and he had trouble squeezing his long legs through. Snape was more than aware about the fact he was very high from the ground and drunkenly relaxing and falling off his broomstick was not an option. In his haste, he heaved himself hard through the frame. The result was Severus losing his grip on his cloak and it nearly flopping into the mud below him. Instead, it folded itself neatly on the windowsill while Snape stood in the Gryffindor boys dormitory stark naked. Luckily where ever Ron and Neville were in the room, they didn't hear him enter or see him like this. Seeing each other's naked bodies was one thing, but seeing someone like Snape's would have pushed them straight back into heterosexuality one would guess- charm or no charm.

   Hurriedly, he covered himself and sauntered over the four-poster bed that had the curtains shut and emitted heavy breathing and appeared to rock ever so slightly. He knew now he had to be absolutely silent or they would either detect him or stop what they are doing and he couldn't get the evidence. He supposed one of the lads may just be having a bad dream or was tossing and turning and the other boy had just gone off for a late night rendezvous with a toilet, it happened to the best and worst of us he thought. What if they weren't having a bad dream? What if they were at it… well maybe they will be wishing that this were all a bad dream. If they were, Severus would be disgusted with them. And if they weren't, Severus would be disgusted with himself. (Not just for being a peeping Tom, also wasting his time with those losers!) 

  Snape circled around the bed looking for a thin patch in the sumptuous velvet curtain or a gap where they had not pulled the curtain as close as they could have done so he could stick the ominculars inconspicuously. . They had done the latter. The gap was big enough to get his face in (but couldn't because they would see it and the invisibility cloak would obscure his vision so if he did cover his face when he had a look, he wouldn't be able to see anything.) Movement could be heard on the bed like the two boys were swapping places. Severus shuddered. He wouldn't actually have to _see_ what they were doing- would he?

   Snape took his chance. He pressed record on the ominculars and put the lens up to the gap forcefully, while keeping his face away from seeing anything. He filmed until his arm got cramp and put his arm down. He saved the footage and replayed there and then in case he needed to try again. He had got the footage and resolved to poke his eyes out later. 

   He was just putting the ominculars away safe in a little pocket of his cloak when he felt a body bash up against him. He heard Neville's voice whisper 'Someone's here!' Severus made sure he was completely covered and made as silent as possible mad dash for the window. He looked quickly behind him to see what was happening. Neville was wearing a sheet that barely covered him and showed off his muscular torso. Snape saw no other option than to jump onto his patiently waiting broomstick in a straddled way and fly off at speed as Neville looked like he had seen him and was in mute hot pursuit.

   The pain hit his testicles straight away. He couldn't scream because Neville and the rest of the school would have heard him howl. He zoomed around the corner and checked out Neville's reaction to this noise and a possible intruder. The boy's expression told Severus that he was over reacting and he watched Neville take a breath of night air, contemplate the stars contentedly and wander back to bed, forgetting that he had ever been concerned of a trespasser.

   Severus Snape exhaled nervously and made a 180-degree turn. All of a sudden he was upside down and hanging onto his broomstick by his legs. The pain in his testicles was too much to ignore and he didn't care he was upside down because he was still under the influence. 

   His body relaxed and he uncrossed his legs, just wishing the blood that was rushing to his head would drain away. He was a good thirty feet from the ground and if the ground was hard and he wasn't as hardy as everyone thinks they are, he would have almost certainly died.

   But his broomstick heroically came to his rescue. It swooped down to catch him- five feet from the ground. Severus was so grateful he hadn't smashed into a billion pieces, the happiness from that and the alcohol still inside him took over and he passed out again.

                                                                        ***

   Several times that night, Severus Snape came to. He ignored his muddy bed and concentrated on his throbbing head. He had this feeling of achievement though that he had accomplished a tough mission and apart from that he just did not care where he was. There was a concern for his new cloak, but that was in later bouts of consciousness.

   It was too early to wake up, but he had classes. He was so groggy, that he only ensured that his head was covered when he walked the one hundred metres to the school entrance. It was a slow and tired journey and Severus was very weak with a hangover that felt it would end the world given half a chance. It took into the negative numbers of his strength to force open the giant wooden door. It was too heavy and he was convinced he had done himself an injury and limped in a way that hypochondriacs do into the ever-filling corridor. 

   The students that were there were milling about aimlessly in the corridor. Snape hated this and usually he would shout at them to do some thing, or go somewhere JUST MOVE! He couldn't shout at them because he was invisible and didn't want to blow his cover, so he just let it slowly eat at his already foul temper. 

   The Hogwarts students watched in fascination as the heavy oak doors were opened by nobody. A path of students seemed to be cleared and muddy footsteps appeared on the floor, which quickly wore off. Argus Filch was going to do his nut, most of the students were thinking. 

   But what was that walking, well jolting along the corridor in mid air. Open-mouthed, their eyes appeared to follow Severus. When they got a closer look, their fear and uncertainty turned to laughter. Laughs were erupting whenever Snape passed a student. He didn't understand what the hell their problem was. This unnerved him but desperate to not blow his cover, so he moved to his tower with haste and in utter silence.

   Passing a mirror at the top of one flight of stairs, Severus saw why the children had been giggling. – The little brats!!! His whole body apart from his genitals-, which he noticed, were red and swollen from jumping onto the broomstick had been on display. Severus Snape had unknowingly put his packet into the minds and nightmares of most of the young adults in this school. They had obviously seen his penis and testicles and upper thighs appear to float through the corridor. That was why they were laughing the little sods! 

   When Severus returned to his room and got into the bathroom to wash in a very cold bath to wake himself up and get clean, he got dressed into his robes. He realised that the kids wouldn't know it was him who had put his bits on display. He would be the last on the list of suspects because he was so straight up and down. The blame would go onto one of those rich kids that would get an invisibility cloak. Unfortunately not Potter as he was still absent- worse luck! 

But what he was most angry at was that it was because of these two sidekicks of the Potter boy who had got him into this mess. His altruism had gone out on an all day hike. If those batty boys want help from me breaking any untoward charms put on them- they can go elsewhere. He sure as hell wasn't gonna help them. He had done enough, gaining evidence that they were at it and suspecting that the two boys were influenced. That was fine. He could do no more. And he _really _at this moment hated them and would not be able to stand the sight of them in potions second lesson. By God he was going to make those two pay…

That is chapter 6 for you people. Come on look how much I have given for you to review on. It's on the left hand side- click it…

The rest of this story is going to be deep and in the same form as your typical Harry Potter only a bit weirder and many more comic situations. This has gone a totally different way to the way I had planned it. This was going to be just a simple comedy, but as you carry on, Voldemort's plan is going to get darker, there is also some philosophy and in later chapters I believe Harry will be here to fight- yay! In all I think about 14 chapters- phew!!!


	7. Reality and to hell and back Ideas why i...

Sorry it took so long. Writers block, you know how it is. It is from Ron and Neville's and an omniscient perspective, keep up.  
  
Ron's perspective.  
  
Gay Sex, Gay Sex, Ron's been having Gay Sex. Was the words that fitted to the rhythm of my movements, footsteps, writing, flying, eating, showering. I thought of nothing else the next day. I felt selfish and uncaring when I could only think of that instead of my friends.  
  
Neville and I had been taken into McGonagall's gently by a solemn house elf and sat down and had a cup of tea and biscuits pressed by our house mistress who was twittering aimlessly along with small talk about how maybe it was a good thing we hadn't gone on this trip. I was going to shout in a minute to get to the point as when she ended a topic, she got all nervous and stammered until she got to the next one. I felt like screaming 'spit it out!'  
  
Neville got there before me. He calmly asked her what did she want to tell us. She stopped dead. Her mouth twitched and lines appeared. She didn't look happy; in fact I thought she might even start blubbering, but why in front of us? I'm male. I can't take women crying.  
  
Oh for Merlin's sake woman, GET ON WITH IT!  
  
Is she serious in what she is telling us? Oh Merlin, it's not true, it can't be. Professor McGonagall has just told me that our friends are in serious danger. You-know-who has got wind that Harry is away from Dumbledore and far away in Italy. He and several death eaters are after him to kill him. They are closing up on the group and Harry has only just heard, there may not have been time for escape- she doesn't know if they got him or not, or even if the others are safe.  
  
I don't believe this. Is this my punishment for letting Neville inside me? IS THIS MERLIN'S PUNISHMENT? Neville is a crumpled heap in his chair, obviously in shock. I'm not far off it, I can't say anything, and I can't form words to talk. Looking at McGonagall is impossible- but I know she is looking at me in pity.  
  
"They might have got my owl yesterday, that is plenty of time to disperse the group and hide Harry and get him back to Hogwarts. I'm sure they are safe boys."  
  
"No you aren't Professor, you're just saying that. You have no idea where they are, you cannot possibly speculate." Said Neville brusquely.  
  
McGonagall bowed her head.  
  
"I do not know what to do or say or anything, Dumbledore is doing his best to find them and get them all home safely,"  
  
I stayed silent throughout this. I was still thinking of Neville. I was a bad person. On one hand, there was my grief that I might have lost all my friends, on the other, my guilt of thinking about sex at a time like this.  
  
I am a bad person.  
  
***  
  
There was nothing to do but wait until we heard an answer. Three days passed and I went through the motions of living, eating two meals a day, pretending to listen in class. I slept alone, Neville wasn't too far away from me and would watch me just stare at the walls.  
  
I came so close to crying on the third day we hadn't heard anything. I hate crying. It isn't really what a man does, but when I entered the dorm that lunchtime, I found Neville with red eyes and a sticky face. I sat on the bed next to him and he took my hand and pulled me into an awkward embrace. I started to cry too, damnit. I hate crying.  
  
***  
  
Four days passed, five days passed, on the sixth day we held very little hope of being contacted. You-know-who had obviously killed them all and duelled Harry and killed him too. They hadn't been warned in time.  
  
McGonagall called us into her office every day and told us the same thing that there was no news and asked us how we were doing and that sometimes no news * is * good news. I didn't believe her and just stared blankly at the top of her head.  
  
This was hell, a taster of my condemnation to it. And surely I was going to hell.  
  
***  
  
Seven days had now passed since we had heard that Harry and the Gryffindors were close to attack from the dark side. It was nearly the eighth day; I was in bed lying there. I couldn't sleep. Neville was in the bed next to me, he was silent too, he was awake, and I knew it because I couldn't hear him snore.  
  
I heard a frantic tapping making its way closer to the dormitory. McGonagall came bursting in, dressed in a tartan nightgown, scraps of paper hung from her hand. I sat upright in bed and called Neville, he opened the curtains from his four-poster and looked at our housemistress in hope.  
  
"They're ok. I've got an owl from Hermione."  
  
I jumped up and snatched the paper from her hands and began to read.  
  
Over the top I could hear McGonagall telling Neville how a doll had been sent to the school and when she started to play with it and take its dummy out of its mouth, letters flew out from the Gryffindors, stating where they were, plans, how they were going to get back and when.  
  
Hermione's letter read.  
  
Dear Professor Dumbledore, McGonagall and Ron and Neville.  
  
We are safe. We got the owl warning us of Voldemort's arrival hours before they did come. We all left as soon as possible and placed that charm of us blending into the background- a sort of chameleon one. I made sure we split up into twos and threes and changed our appearances by muggle and magic ways. The owl has been round every group taking letters from everyone revealing where they are and such until we sent it to you. We are taking different ways back to Hogwarts; flying by broomstick across countries is too far and too dangerous. So several of us will be driving, flying by aeroplane, train, boat etc. Do not worry, we should be with you in the next week, we are changing direction of journeys by Harry's advice- something he said Moody had said to him when they first went to visit the Order of the Phoenix. Here are the letters.  
  
We all hope you haven't been too worried.  
  
Hermione.  
  
***  
  
I looked at the letter in amazement at such a plan. Having someone like Hermione was a Merlin send. I used to be in love with her. I remember going mad at her for not noticing when really I should have said something. I love her now as my friend and adoptive sister. Neville stood over me reading the letter. I gave it to him and proceeded to read the other letters of people's whereabouts.  
  
Dear all  
  
We are safe and travelling by car to France and then on the Ferry to Dover, then Knight Bus up to Hogsmeade- then to Hogwarts. We should be there about three days after this has been sent.  
  
Lavender and Parvati.  
  
Everyone  
  
We are flying by plane from Italy to Heathrow. The problem is getting a flight- they are all booked up. But we are fine and living off airport food. Should be back in two/ three days.  
  
Hermione and Seamus  
  
Hello  
  
Driving from Italy, to Germany to France and then over to the UK. Bit of a trek because we want to get Voldemort off the scent. We have met up with a nephew of Professor Flitwick and he is driving us through and all that. Back soon.  
  
Harry and Dean.  
  
***  
  
I read the letters in disbelief. I had been waiting for an owl to tell us that they were dead or seriously injured or walking round a foreign country with their memories modified, but no, they were all all right. Delayed but fine. I couldn't stop smiling. Some of them would be with us as soon as tomorrow night!  
  
***  
  
After an hour of celebrating their safety with Neville, (McGonagall had gone to bed) we drank the remainder of the bottle of vodka that we had shared on the night we got it together. Lack of food for several hours took its toll and I stumbled onto Neville's bed. - He didn't push me off. We just lay there all night looking into each other's eyes and smiling and stroking each other's bodies. Content all was right with the world and we could touch conscience free.  
  
Neville's POV  
  
I woke up in the morning with Ron in my arms. He was asleep and smiling. It must be such a relief knowing that his best friends were safe. I was damn well relieved as well. I get on with them all so well and I would hate it if anything bad happened to them.  
  
That was one of the worst weeks of our lives. I don't think I could ever go through that again.  
  
Now I know they are safe, I wonder if it's the right time to discuss with Ron what we did. All I know is that I feel this inexplicable love for him and I know that he feels it too. But why?  
  
It's only this year I've ever thought about being gay. I was at this family party when a friend of my cousin Ollie just kisses me out of the blue. I felt nothing then, but I carried on. I haven't seen or heard from him since. - I don't care anyway- he wasn't really that fit.  
  
How did this happen? I know that I worry about this newfound sexuality, whether I am gay or not. Should I tell people? Will Ron and I carry on having sex? Will we tell people that we are? How will everyone respond and if we break up, will we still be friends and will girls want to go out with me.  
  
But how come I am only truly ecstatic when I am touching him?  
  
Love can't possibly come so suddenly and we can't possibly be Veela. I could have a point there.  
  
I'm sending an owl to Gran.  
  
***  
  
Neville approached Ron tentatively. He didn't know if it was the right time to ask, but he had to before the Gryffindors started to arrive- because then everything would be forgotten.  
  
"Ron,"  
  
"Uh huh,"  
  
"Can we talk, I think we need to,"  
  
"Ok. Shoot,"  
  
"Do you love me?"  
  
Ron paused stiffly. He didn't know how to answer the question. He wondered if any answer he gave, Neville would give the opposite and they would both be hurt.  
  
"I think I do."  
  
"Oh thank goodness, 'cos I do too,"  
  
"Bloody hell mate! So what do we do?"  
  
"What can we do?"  
  
"I don't know,"  
  
"I have no idea how this happened Ron,"  
  
"Me too,"  
  
"I do have an idea. It sounds really dumb, but do you think that one or both of us are Veela and we've just bonded?"  
  
"I sincerely hope not mate, once they bond, they have to be together for life,"  
  
"Thank you,"  
  
"Noooo I don't mean it that way Neville. I mean that we've only just started doing things, I don't want to be tied down or anything,"  
  
"That's fine."  
  
"You're mad now aren't you?"  
  
"I never said I was,"  
  
"I really really really like you Neville, I'm not going to fuck around with you."  
  
"I know, we'll just have to work out something along the way about what we are going to do."  
  
"But what? How are we going to keep this quiet? How will we stay together?"  
  
"I have no idea."  
  
Ron and Neville then sat down on the bed and claimed each other. Knowing that when the others get back, they would have to hide it and not be so obvious.  
  
*** 


	8. Owls That Give No Truth

Owls that discover no truth- (Chapter 8)  
  
I borrowed the idea that Ron and Neville may be Veela from Frizzy. I have permission, nobody kill me as I still have some jobs at home to do. Ok, enjoy reading (+ biology lesson) and leave a review.  
  
*Owls sent between Neville and his Grandmother and Neville's POV*  
  
Gran  
  
Hello, I hope you are well. I am doing fine. The other Gryffindors are safe and are coming back to Hogwarts in the next few days.  
  
But lessons still go on *makes a sad face* and we are studying Veela, its part of our homework to write about them and their habits, and in particular the magnetic attraction between them and a potential mate. We get some bonus points if we discover if there is any Veela blood in the family. And because you have always said you wanted me to do well in my lessons and you would help me in any way that you could. is there any Veela blood in our family?  
  
A reply before Wednesday would be great because its due in on Friday and I want the time to write it up  
  
Love  
  
Neville  
  
The next night, Gran replied.  
  
Neville  
  
I am glad that you are doing well, and yes in myself I am good, but I feel a cold coming up- but never mind.  
  
Regarding your question on whether there is any Veela blood in the family, I have to say that there is no immediate Veela blood that will affect you. My great Grandmother was a half Veela. So your great great great Grandmother was a half Veela. I don't know if that is any help to your essay or not. It is possible you could have Veela blood inside you if it was on your mother's side as it is recessive and Frank may have received that gene too from my great grandmother. But I doubt it very much. So don't you worry, especially if they have taught you about the inheritance etc.  
  
Good luck on writing it up and tell me what grade you got  
  
Love always  
  
Gran  
  
Well that was encouraging, but what about my mother's side? I know a little bit about genes and such- you have to for herbology to know what kind of plants you will get. We have two little genes that make up. us. Veela gene is recessive and to be a proper Veela you must have 2 recessive Veela genes like vv. Now since one of my ancestors had a Vv, the little gene goes on through the line if that one is chosen to make us. If my father was a Vv and my mother was a Vv, I could be a fully-fledged Veela and it would explain everything I have done with Ron and we will now have bonded and will have to spend the rest of our lives together. If I am, I came into my inheritance a bit late. But then again I was a late developer- it took me a while to show signs of magic, and my voice didn't break until I was fourteen. I think I better reply to Gran and make up a grade.  
  
Hi Gran.  
  
Thank you very much for your help- the extra information got me an Acceptable, which I am very pleased with. Do you think that my mum had that gene? Just a thought.  
  
Love  
  
Neville  
  
Her answer was a bit terse. I know that she is always happy to go through any questions that I have concerning anything, but she sounded edgy, like she was hiding something. Immediately, I was suspicious.  
  
Neville  
  
I am very happy for you and your good grade. But I don't have time to pacify you with infantile worries about whether you are a Veela or not being brought on by exposure to the concept. My cold has gotten worse and it may be flu and I'm too tired to answer long questions like the ones you have been asking me. However I still want owls on your progress, as you are important to me.  
  
Gran  
  
Gran  
  
Sorry I upset you, I hope you get better soon. I won't ask again and I won't go prying into mum's family tree. Its just a curiosity, because quite a few of us have a little Veela blood inside us from a very long time ago, its incredibly interesting to see where we come from. Only one person is a proper Veela and our teachers will not tell us who, as they are in the third year and haven't come into their inheritance yet and it worries them a lot that they will settle down young.  
  
Write back soon  
  
Neville  
  
After I had sent that owl, I had a word with Ron about my Gran's reply and asked if he thought that she knew something about my mother's heritage and wasn't telling me. He was very sensible about it and reassured me that like she had told me about my dad that she would tell me about my mum if she knew anything and it was probably her flu that had made her snappy as it was as sure as hell that his mother was like that when on the rare occasions that she gets sick. We talked about my mum and her colouring and if there was any chance of Veela blood. Even though my mum has blonde hair and blue eyes, they are not of the silvery Veela kind. Even though there was a hint of it in my genes. We worked out that at the best my genes are Vv and I am most possibly VV. The trail runs cold on my side.  
  
*End of Neville and his owls and POV, beginning of Ron's owls and POV *  
  
It's bloody well hard enough as it is. How am I going to convince mum that we are studying Veela? She'll want to know exactly what lesson it is AND complain to Dumbledore if she don't think it suitable. Well, I'll try and owl dad instead, he never asks.  
  
Hi Dad  
  
How are you, mum and the muggles? I'm doing fine. I expect you're confused why I have sent you an owl. I have a question about our family bloodlines, I didn't want to owl mum because she fusses and stuff. (Please don't tell her I said that)  
  
We are studying Veela in one of our lessons and we are given the task of writing about them and their inheritance and stuff and we can get some extra marks if we can provide a brief summary of our own blood line as it is predicted that everyone will have a little bit of it in us- for example Neville's great great great grandmother was a half Veela- which is very interesting you have to admit. Are you aware of any Veela blood in our family?  
  
Can you reply by Saturday please as it is due in Monday and I want the time to write it up?  
  
Thanks  
  
Ron  
  
Dad replied quite quickly for him. He sounded very surprised I asked such a question when we are pureblood through and through. - But surely there is a little in there somewhere- around the 1700's there was an influx of the things and running off with British wizards. There was a chance- right?  
  
Dear Ron  
  
You know full well that we are pure blood and that we only have the one muggle relative. I suppose we do have some Veela blood from maybe a few hundred years ago, but you have to remember that it will not be dominant in your system. There is none at all on your mother's side either as I remember doing a Veela project at Hogwarts though it was a lot earlier in my time there that we did it and your mum and I had not being going out long- but we did the project together anyway. Not having Veela blood will not hinder your mark at all so don't worry.  
  
Keep smiling and remember that Merlin owns all the donuts  
  
Love Dad  
  
That sucked You-Know-Who's bollocks. So Neville had to be the Veela. He didn't look like one or appear to have any Veela traits- but it was the only explanation. The both of us couldn't suddenly turn gay. So Neville must have this blood in him that finds the person who completes him in every way regardless of sex, race, wizardry etc. I must complete him. But if he is- wouldn't when we. you know, feel different, more spiritual and floaty? It feels good, but there is a detachment in my mind. I talked to Neville about this and he reckons I must not have given my entire self to him, only my body and not my mind or soul. I smiled wantonly. With the others due back at least tomorrow, I had tonight to submit one or both of those things.  
  
*End of Ron's owls and POV* 


	9. Harry discovers

This is chapter nine. Beta'd by a lovely person who showed mercy on my inability to do gaps inbetween dashes.  
I hope you like the chapter.

If you've not been reading previously, you should.

"Harry! You're safe! I'd have never believed it!"

It's early Monday morning and I've been up an hour. I recognise Hermione's voice. I'm just fart arsing about in my boxers, alternating between reading the latest Chudley Cannons annual and planting little kisses and strokes on Neville's body. Neville's lifting a weight with just the one arm, and swapping to the other now and again.

Harry, Dean and Seamus are also back by the sounds of it in the common room. At any moment they're going take the stairs up to the tower and see… I can feel it, any second now. I chuck my book on my bed and start to hastily pull clothes on.

"What are you doing?" Neville asks me.

"What the hell do you _think_ I'm doing? They're gonna be up any second right? Great situation to be seen in - they'll find out about us!" I whisper harshly.

"So?"

"So Neville - they have spent a fucking week on the run. They don't want to see us wearing next to nothing and kissing when they come back here for refuge!"

"You're ashamed."

"No!" Maybe I say that a bit loud. I hear footsteps up the stairs.

"Shiiit," I whine. How are we going to get out of this one? And so quickly?

Neville looks away from me, but I can see his face in a bureaux mirror set in stone, moody and unsmiling. I take a deep breath and think of some mushy stuff to tell him. Jeez, is Neville a girl or something?

"I'm not ashamed Neville… I love you. Just not yet… OK?"

Neville's face lights up at the mentioning of my feelings for him. I can see that he's trying to play it cool.

"Fine."

There's time for a brief kiss and finding my place in my book when we're greeted with the sight of Harry, Hermione, Dean and Seamus - but it doesn't look like them.

Harry looks the most different. He's not wearing his glasses, his hair is shaved very short and it's… blonde. Oh my bloody life - his scar is gone!

Everyone else just has different coloured hair. You wouldn't think that different coloured hair would make such a difference. Hermione has straightened hers too.

Neville and I gape like goldfish. I know how they gape. Fred and George use them for their testing of their products. Something Hermione will never find out – Society for the Protection of Goldfish… she must be kept in the dark.

Harry walks over to me very cautiously, seeming unbalanced. He explains he didn't have time for contact lenses (what the heck are they?) and is walking about in a haze and keeps on stumbling. To prove his point, Harry trips onto me. I catch him and manage to bring him closer into a hug.

"How did you get rid of the scar?" I ask in awe. I'm looking at his face, it's a little more brown, but his scar is gone as far as I can see – is it magic? Because if it is a charm, I'd like to use it to get the scar off my hand.

"Foundation," Hermione states. Everybody is looking at her in confusion.

"What?" Seamus says in some kind of disbelief.

Hermione looks at us in a withering way as if she wants to state the obvious.

"Make up! It disguises and hides spots - but in Harry's case I made sure it covered the scar. I showed Dean and Andy (Flitwick's nephew) how to apply it 'cos Harry couldn't see and is a useless male. When he was in public - he couldn't get too sweaty or wet in case it wore off."

"That, my dear, is genius." Neville beams at her and then reaches out to place a hand on her shoulder proudly. I suddenly had this urge to deck them both. How dare he touch her? He's mine! And Hermione - she should know better, the cow! Neville looks at me in absolute horror and slowly lifts his hand off her and backs away silently, trying not to make a fuss.

Nobody notices though, and they're now excitedly talking about their adventures - making their way back to England while in disguise and hiding from You-Know-Who.

Harry was grateful to be back at Hogwarts. Voldemort could not touch him there. It was his last year of safety before he was alone to battle the Dark Lord.

What he wasn't grateful for was to have to do potions at NEWT level and have to go to Snape's classes. He had to take potions to be an Auror – Something he wasn't pleased about.

'I hate my life,' Harry thought glumly.

Walking with Ron, Neville and Hermione - all reluctant potions students, Harry felt safer facing the Slytherins with their deathly silences and malevolent stares. Draco Malfoy in particular was astonished to see Harry alive and more than amused at his new hairstyle. It provided a new battle, reasons for ridicule.

Professor Snape was not really bothered by the launching of flobberworms from one side of the classroom to the next; he had bigger fish to fry. Telling Harry his suspicions about Voldemort's plan and the dramatic transformation in his friends - who were giving not-so-sly loving gazes at each other. He would have to tell Harry. Harry was essential in fighting Voldemort. Why couldn't he just leave it to Dumbledore?

The lesson ended in a sullen silence when Snape made his wand blast an explosion in the classroom to gain attention. He was _not_ used to this and it was going to stop RIGHT NOW!

"SILENCE!" He yelled in a tone that surprised even him. "Harry Potter. Stay after class. I want to talk to you."

Harry's stomach sank.

Harry shuffled apprehensively up to his potions mater. Severus Snape appeared indifferent to Harry himself which was change from the usual contempt. His eyes then darkened as he clocked other Gryffindors packing up very slowly and hanging around. Another crack of his wand ensued.

"Out!"

Nobody needed telling twice, and the three Gryffindors scuttled out faster than if they'd have Disapparated. Harry stood where he was and shifted his weight to the other foot while Snape went to his office. Harry cleared his throat.

"You wanted to see me Professor?"

An impatient voice followed straight after.

"Yes, come in. Stop wasting my time, I haven't got all day."

"Sorry." Harry tentatively stepped into the office. Since the potions master was sitting down, Harry assumed he was to as well. A pause followed.

"Why did you want to see me Professor?"

"You are an obnoxious little shit, the spawn of an arrogant prick and his Mudblood wife…"

Harry felt a burst of anger and stood up. Was that _all_ he wanted to say? Insult his parents who couldn't curse him into oblivion for saying….

"Is that all you called me in for? To have a go at my parents? I think I'll leave now, smash a few things on the way."

Severus did not even blink at this out burst - he didn't even appear to care. He calmly carried on.

"However, as much as I hate to admit, you are important in the fight against the Dark Lord. You must be informed of his latest developments,"

Harry felt foolish for rising to the greasy git's bait. He flushed and sat down.

"Yes. He tried to find me and kill me when he found I was away from Hogwarts and Dumbledore."

"The Dark Lord, Mr. Potter, has his fingers in more than one pie…"

"Huh?" Harry was more confused that such a man had used such an expression.

"The Dark Lord has used your… friends Weasley and Longbottom while you were away as an experiment to what I believe is a Muggle cleansing curse,"

"But Ron and Neville are both pureblood."

"Do not interrupt me, Potter. The Dark Lord is doing two jobs in one. By testing out this illegal and alternative unforgivable curse - he gets not only guinea pigs, but access to you,"

"I don't understand Professor. What has he done to them? They seem fine; neither appears to want to hurt me."

"Weasley and Longbottom, straight or gay?"

"Straight."

"Not anymore."

"WHAT?" Harry could not believe this. He sunk back into his chair further. He was weak, gobsmacked.

"The Dark Lord has invented a charm that your friends have unwittingly cast and they are now being gay together."

"You said this affects me, will I be gay?"

"You are a selfish little bugger."

"You are a prick."

"Ten points from Gryffindor."

"I'm not being selfish, I want the whole story."

"That as may be."

"Well?"

"He has not consulted us on this matter, and I have no idea if this is the Dark Lord or on his motivation, I can only guess, and it seems evil enough to be him," Snape continued, leaning a little further back into his chair.

"Why are you guessing? And how the heck do you know what is going on? Why do you think they are gay?"

"Legilimens. They could not hide memories from me of their time together… touching and…"

"Stop!" Yelped Harry, feeling a little ill. "Can you prove it?"

"I went to great lengths. It is a long story and I may be permanently maimed." Snape shuffled in his chair and looked uncomfortable. Why was he even telling him? He hated the brat. But orders from Dumbledore were orders. He may as well be civil, the lad was stupid, and he needed it spelled out. But not much more on his time. He was an important and busy man. (He had no papers to mark and was looking forward to a night with a goblet of wine and a book).

"I have it saved on omniculars - do you wish to see it, Potter?"

Harry's stomach turned. Ron and Neville? His head was swimming franticly, trying to stave off images of them kissing, which were made worse by his fierce shaking. Harry managed to croak.

"Don't you dare."

For a while the two who loathed each other stayed in a relatively comfortable silence while Harry's mind tried to process what he just been told.

"What are you thinking Professor?"

Snape didn't really want to tell Harry _exactly_ what was on his mind. He opted for the professional thoughts. What he was really thinking though was how he really didn't want the 'pleasure' of this brat's company.

"At first, when I saw their thoughts, they believed it to be love - that they had suddenly realised their feelings while they were drunk. Today, I found from Longbottom that they cannot explain it and tried to use veela ancestry that was two hundred years old."

"Well it could be possible… you see in herbology…"

"Silence, Potter! I am aware of genetics. I do not need to be told by a mere teenager. The likeliness of both sides of their PUREBLOOD families having veela blood enough to warrant magnetic attraction is so low, I bet you and I will be lovers before they are fully inherited veela."

Harry gulped visibly at the bad imagery. Snape got up and made a cup of tea, and then at second thought, made another and pushed it in Harry's direction who was looking very weak. He commanded that the boy drink, then sat down again.

"I think he wants it to affect you through their influence. Fools who love, and he knows you crave love and acceptance, may take it from any place they can get it. Let's say if a misguided teenage boy shows you the attention or that love can be gained by that sex as well as the female one, you might fall for it. However, it does provide a lot of struggles. Every so often, there is the confused teenage boy thinking he loves another boy, usually a pureblood. Every effort by parents is made to stamp it out of them, to make sure they carry on the line. He understands that being gay is harder - coming out - conducting a relationship. Takes up time. He probably learned that lesson at school, we'll never know.

"Like you'd know," Harry said, immediately regretting it, did he think he was being funny when he said it? Snape just glared at him. After he had been so hospitable… he remembered why he hated this little shit - just like his father.

"Failing that - he'd expect the little hero you are - you will worry and go on a mission to save them - get side tracked into that, and he'll be able to overpower you."

"Oh, why is being gay so bad? It's not exactly OK in the Muggle world - but why would I bother trying to 'save someone' from being happy?"

"One loses the opportunity to carry on their family line. One can get a nasty disease from gay sex as you can from heterosexual sexual relations - you can die from a disease, Potter," Snape wondered why he was saying this. He wasn't even embarrassed talking of this delicate subject with his old rival's son. It felt business like, clinical, and antiseptic of all embarrassment. Even Harry wasn't blushing anymore; he was listening with intent, not for his own benefit either.

"Oh." Harry didn't know what else to say. There suddenly became a discomforting silence, Harry didn't want to answer that, and Snape didn't want to and couldn't divulge any more information without ultimately giving Harry a one-on-one sex education talk. Snape ended the quiet by slamming his mug of tea on his desk; staring at Harry and hoping he could try and seal this freakish meeting.

"Do you believe me Potter?" He reasoned that if Harry said he didn't believe him, he could palm the boy off to Dumbledore, and if he did, he could send him on his way to Dumbledore for further discussion.

"If you can see into my thoughts - shouldn't you know already?" Harry answered. He thought he had overstepped the mark again when Snape's lips thinned out, but instead, he laughed a dry laugh briefly before remembering his place. Harry jumped in surprise.

"Shut up Potter, yes or no?"

"I believe you. We are both on the same side, yes?"

"I shall be speaking with the headmaster and asking for his counsel on the matter - I have done all I can alone. You shall be called to speak to the headmaster and myself again at some point. You may go now."

"Thank you, Professor." Harry got up and left for the common room. He didn't really see why Snape had confided in him. If it was a plot of Voldemort's then he would have to fight him - was this going to be the final showdown? He sincerely hoped not. Harry hoped he would be older and stronger before he did.

He wasn't sure he wanted to go to the common room. He didn't know if he wanted to talk to anyone - his brain was aching and he was feeling a little queasy. He considered going to Madam Pomfrey to ask for something to calm his stomach. He soon set himself against that. To say he ate something dodgy at the last meal would be to cause a fuss, as many other students would have eaten what he did too. He couldn't bring himself to tell her the real reason either. Instead, he opted to take a walk through the corridors, it being too chilly now to take the walk outside to visit Hagrid without proper warm clothes.

Were they really not aware of what they were doing? They were oblivious that their love was a plot to kill him. How could he face his best friend? Look him in the eye and _know_ what they had done and what they were continuing to do. Poor Ron, believing he was in love with a mystical creature when it wasn't even for real. Harry wouldn't say a word to either of his friends until they told him or they knew that he had found out. He had the notion that it might be better if they didn't know that he knew about their relationship. It would be too embarrassing for him to confront Ron and Neville, and how could he keep his opinions to himself, smile and nod if his friends told him and passionately declared that they were in love.

Harry kept on walking around the school, nodding and saying hello to those who greeted him. He never stopped to talk. He hoped he might be able to walk off the problem, maybe if he tried to make his way through the whole school, he would have enough time to think, to accept that his friends were being made pawns in his fight with Voldemort, and to wonder would there ever be the solution to his problem. Were Ron and Neville bonded and would they be as they were now for the rest of their lives? Would they turn against him? If their minds had been manipulated to love the other, could they be twisted to hate Harry and work to destroy him?

Harry carried on walking until the bell for curfew rang, children in other houses, temporarily uniting because they were family or previous friends, made their way to their common rooms. Harry went with the flow of children and split off gracefully with the rest of the Gryffindors. He was so quiet and drawn, no one paid any attention to him, and once he reached the common room, he made his way up to the bedroom, where Neville was helping Ron understand a herbological theory for a NEWT essay. They didn't hear him come in, and if they did, they didn't pay attention to him. Harry ignored them too, and went to bed, shutting the curtains on the four-poster, and stayed awake most of the night, wondering if he had lost his friends.

Chapter ten will be soon when it's been beta'd. Leave comments, praise, flames for my marshmallows and to boil my water in the mornings, marriage proposals, oragami swans, cups of soup and the like.


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